


Creatures (we are not alone anymore)

by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Banshees, F/M, Vampires, Were-Creatures, oh my!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampirism was a strange halfway house between true death and what was known to be life, but it granted great strength for all its drawbacks. Still, Cassandra supposes that is the grand punchline. Hardly a life at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creatures (we are not alone anymore)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrilliaOrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrilliaOrange/gifts).



Everyone knew about Nevarra.

It was common knowledge that they had respect for the life beyond, the experience that came after death. The necropoli that were ever-present were testament to the reverence that Nevarrans held for the dead.

Everyone _knew_. Which made it easy to omit the most important fact.

There was life beyond death, and the wealthiest of Nevarra had found it - after a fashion. Vampirism was a strange halfway house between true death and what was known to be life, but it granted great strength for all its drawbacks. Still, Cassandra supposes that is the grand punchline. Hardly a life at all.

She had been taken as a child - screaming and crying out for her brother as life ebbed from him, her uncle had offered her the chance to avenge him, to keep his memory alive within her, to live on -

She was a child. She had no way of knowing. So she had said yes, she had drank the Pentaghast blood, and then she had… she had drank Anthony's blood.

Just thinking of him stirred his memories, taken from his body as he lay there dying - his childish petulance when she had been born, his determination to keep her safe, his love, _oh_ , so much love for his precious sister… she felt it all. It had taken years to control it, to rise above it and smile. She would always smile for him.

Her body had matured to adulthood, and then - well, it had been a long twenty years for the Seeker, but not a day of it showed on her face. She had joined the Order in vain hope of finding some measure of peace, her young mind unable to deal with the burden she now felt, but even her mentor had suggested she was some form of demon before assenting to train her. After that, she kept her secret close to her chest, her hunger for blood sated through stolen vials and mysterious late night bloodlettings. Even Justinia had been in the dark about her Right Hand. Safety in secrecy, Leliana had said.

And so it ever was.

*

The wind picks up around her, and she feels her hair ruffle as she heads towards the hall of Skyhold, but the chill it must surely offer to others is wasted on her. Such was the price of eternal life - unfeeling, always a step behind humanity. She has long since mourned her death, resigned herself to this life. Despite it all, she struggled to keep a distance from the others around her - knowing that she would go on as they died, knowing that her lifespan would far exceed their forebears, was hard enough, but she had grown to like them. She was not sure how she would fare, in that future - should it come, of course. She would even miss Varric and his tales, she realises.

Of course, Varric was always the exception in everything.

She could not figure him out. Around everyone else she felt the familiar draw, the desire to feed, the rush of blood pulsing through their arteries… it was loud, in the quiet of the mountains, and she frequently made her excuses to get away. But Varric did not have that allure - she could hear his blood, of course, but there was no desire, no temptation with him.

Why, she could not say.

And so it was that she found herself choosing his company over others, on serene evenings in the Keep. Dorian found the whole thing amusing, but knew better than to say as much, especially when she challenged him over his particular breeding.

A male banshee. She had heard rumours, of course, that the Imperium had experimented with magic and breeding, and that the more influential houses had a lot more than magic in their blood, but Dorian Pavus was proof positive. He had been more protective of his sexuality in the end, and she had promised to keep his secrets.

“But you must understand,” she had smiled, “the South does not mind your interest in men _nearly_ as much as your ability to scream someone into submission.”

It is Dorian now who brings her attention to the dwarf as she steps into the halls - hers and everyone else’s as he shouts.

“Fleas!” howls Dorian, clutching at his robes. “ _Kaffas_ , Varric, why do they gravitate towards you?”

Cassandra is surprised when the hot red flush bursts across the back of Varric’s neck - usually a sign of great distress for him. But over fleas?

“It’s not _my_ fault the dogs like me!”

“Maybe if you didn’t _smell_ of the blasted -”

“Enough!” Leliana’s voice cuts across the pair. “Dorian, the Inquisitor requires your expertise. Varric, I would like to go over your next mission, if you have the time.”

The tension lingers as Dorian turns on his heel, heading out of the hall, but Cassandra is fixated on the tense shoulders of the dwarf.

He had been serving Leliana since the beginning, vanishing every so often on secret missions. Cassandra wonders why she chose him - after all, she had agents to hand, even here, and Varric had proven he was no slouch as a fighter, and yet still he disappeared to serve the woman who had been the Left Hand.

Still, there were many mysteries that she was left to wonder about with Varric. For all the truth she sought, she seldom found it around him.

Quite the exception, indeed.

*

It is not for some time that she spends any great amount of time with Varric again, but when she returns from a mission in the Exalted Plains, he is one of the first to greet her.

“Seeker! Back from the clutches of the wilds, are we?”

She can hear his heart quicken, and smiles softly. “Just about. The Lady Vivienne’s research was accurate, but so was the suggestion of dragon activity.”

“Shit. You alright?”

“I am still standing.”

He grins. “Want a drink whilst you tell me all about it? For posterity, of course.”

“Of course.” She follows him to his quarters, as had become their custom before missions had forced them apart, and joins him in a glass of wine, sitting at ease as she tells him of the fight. The evening wears on, and they end up sat next to one another on the edge of his bed.

Varric smiles as she sums up Bull’s enthusiasm with an eyeroll.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Varric. It is worth a great deal.”

He is close, so close that she can hear his heartbeat, faster for her proximity. She watches his throat as he swallows, watches his mouth as he licks his lips.

“Cassandra,” he says, and the memory of her heart stirs.

“Varric?”

“I… I need to tell you something.” And he pulls away. She can feel his reluctance, and she knows her own eyes must betray something of her conflicted feelings. “We keep… circling each other. Closer every day, but… there’s always a reason to pull away. And you’re holding back, and I know why.”

A flare of panic rushes through her. “Oh?”

“It’s because you know _I’m_ holding something back.” He swallows again, and now his discomfort weighs on him, shoulders slumped.

“You do not have to tell me,” she says automatically. “We all have secrets -”

“Not like this.”

She slides from her seat, kneeling in front of him. “Varric, we have weathered many battles together, on and off the field. I have seen you lie, cheat and flatter. I have seen you tell the truth. Whatever troubles you now… let it not trouble you further.” Her hand rests on his, gloved fingers squeezing gently. “You are Varric Tethras, yes?”

“Yeah, I -”

“And you have… come to care for me, yes?”

He swallows again. “Very much,” he whispers.

She smiles. “That is all I need. For I have come to care about you a great deal, and I trust yo-”

“I’m a werewolf,” he blurts out.

The silence that follows is heavy and strange.

Cassandra swallows. “You… you are a _werewolf_.”

He closes his eyes, the look of resignation on his face all too familiar. He thought she would scream, he thought his life upended -

Cassandra laughs, long and loud and free.

“Oh, Maker take you, you fool, if I had only _known_ -”

“What? What's so funny?”

“I am a vampire!”

He stares at her, and then he grins. “Really?”

“Truly.”

He reaches for her hand, pulling off her glove. “You're _cold_. Is this why you always wear gloves?” At her nod, he laughs. “ _Shit_. Shit, all this time?”

“Yes.” Her hand tightens around his. “I do not - I mean, there is no desire to _feed_ , around you, and I thought perhaps it _meant_ something, that you were important, and it makes sense now - you _are_ important, you are -”

He yanks her forward into a crushing kiss, and she hesitates for only a moment before reciprocating, arms wrapping around his neck as she slides into his lap, straddling him.

“Varric -”

“You know what this means?”

“I - what?”

He grins lasciviously. “I can fuck you. _Hard_. And you can take it without breaking.”

She laughs, a wonderful rich thing. “Oh, _Varric_.”

“What?”

“Who says you will be the one doing the fucking?” she growls, and feels something inside her let go as she claims his mouth again with a heated moan. He presses himself up against her, the hardness in his pants hot against her, and her fingers grapple at his shirt, hoisting it over his head. And then she smiles, pulling away as she drops his tunic.

He grins, and she can see the wolf in his eyes. “C’mere.”

“Catch me.”

He is quick, quicker than she expects, but he only catches her shirt, short barking laugh as he whirls around to find her at his back.

“You’re good.”

“You have no idea,” she teases, before shadowstepping again to avoid his grasp. He ends up with two torn pieces of her clothes and a smirk, and Cassandra laughs, slipping into the shadows once more.

“Too slow -”

His hand is tight around her wrist, and the soft gasp of surprise is smothered by his lips crushing against hers. He backs her up against the wall, teeth dragging over her bottom lip, and her laugh is tempered with a moan as he pulls away.

“I’m fast and clever,” he points out, “that’s why I’m the rogue and you’re the warrior.”

“You were testing me?”

“Only ever playing, Seeker,” he murmurs, nipping at her neck. “Can’t help it. I like to play with my pack.”

She smiles, wide and sweet. “I am part of your pack?”

“You always were.” He smiles up at her. “Now you’re… more.” He swallows. “We… we mate for life, Cassandra.”

“I… I think I will outlive you,” she admits quietly. “How long do your kind live for?”

“Long enough.”

“Truly?”

He shrugs. “My old pack leader was three hundred, last I saw of him. If we survive Corypheus, we can… we can find out. If you want to.”

She cups his face in her hands. “I want to,” she whispers. “I want to, with you.”

He leans up, the kiss tender as his grip relaxes and she wraps her arms around him. He leads her to the bed, his touch gentle as he helps her undress, and she lies before him bared and beautiful as his fingers trip lightly over her skin.

“You’re chilly.”

“I have not taken blood for some time.”

“Is that bad?”

“Long term, yes. But I will be fine. Do not worry about me.”

“Can’t help it, Seeker. You’re very much on my mind.” He settles between her legs, and she swallows.

“Touch me,” she breathes. “Varric, please -”

“You’ve denied yourself this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Varric -”

He smiles softly. “It’s alright. I know. It’s hard, when they’re so fleeting, so fragile. You know already you’ll outlive them even if they stay.”

“Please - _please_ , I need -”

“I know.” His fingers press against her entrance, and she _wails_. “Oh, Cassandra, I _know_.” And he leans down, teeth raking against her skin as she cries out again.

“Varric - Varric, _oh_ -” Her hands fly to his head, nails scraping against his skin as she clutches at him, hips rolling into his touch. “Please, please, I cannot -”

His tongue and fingers are like fire, every touch setting her nerves alight and her desire racing. Her legs twitch and twist over his shoulders, her body responding with joyous abandon as he fucks her with his mouth, her own sobs and moans interspersed with his soft growls and the slick wet noise of her core.

It is too much and not enough, and Cassandra screams as her climax crashes into her, shaking and crying as he pushes her through it, three fingers thrusting into her and his free hand pinning her hips to the bed, only easing up when her legs fall limp against his back.

His lips are slick, shining as he smiles up at her, and she wants to kiss him.

“Feel better?” he teases and she laughs, hoarse and weak.

“A little.”

“Only a little? I’m hurt.”

“I am sure you can do better than that, Varric,” she purrs, reaching between them to rub at his length, and he growls again, claiming her lips in a messy kiss.

“Cassandra -”

Her teeth graze his neck, not hard enough to bleed but enough to make him notice. “You want this?” she breathes, and feels his shiver.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Cassandra -”

Her hand trails over his cock, stilling halfway down. “This much?”

He groans, hips rutting against her.

“This much?” She shifts again, an inch further.

“Please -”

“This much?” Her fingers slide down to his base, tightening.

“ _Ha_ \- yes - yes, _fuck_ -”

“Or… _this_ much?” And here she smiles, wicked and perfect, before her nails run carefully back up his length, and he has to bite back a howl.

“Please - please -”

“You were so good to me,” she whispers, “so kind. It is only fair that I ease your suffering.” Shifting back slightly, she smiles up at him. “How do you want me?”

Varric grabs her waist, pulling her closer. “Now,” he growls. “Now. I want you _now_.” His mouth is hot against hers, claiming her for only a moment before pulling away. “On your hands and knees, Seeker.”

She rolls onto her front, stretching her arms as she picks herself up, his hands circling her waist once more. “Like this?”

He rocks against her, breath coming in hot pants. “Good - you’re so good -”

“Varric -”

He presses down against her back, sliding into her heat with a low moan. Her hips come up, her breath catching, and for a moment he stills, her body pulsing around him.

And then he moves, pulling all the way out only to slam back into her with enough force to knock her arms out from under her and drive a cry from her throat. She scrabbles for the headboard, fingers curling tight around the wood.

“Yes -”

He does it again, the slam of the headboard against the wall echoing, her voice crying out again.

“Fuck me - Varric, fuck me -”

His response is wild, his growling louder as he pounds her over and over, hands tight on her hips - hard enough to hurt anyone else, but she would be lucky to bruise. Each slam of his hips makes the world shift, makes her scream, makes her hands tighten on the headboard until the wood splinters in her grasp.

His arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body flush against his chest, and she turns her head to find his, hand coming up to bury itself in his hair. His hand snakes down her body as he fucks her, digging into flesh and making her pant against him.

“Varric - Varric, _please_ -”

“Mine,” he growls. _“Mine.”_

His teeth claim her shoulder, digging deep into her skin, and she gasps with the force of it. Her lover, her bonded, her pack mate, _marking_ her, making her _his_ \- the intimacy of the act is enough to send her over the edge again, a fractured cry from her throat as she shakes around him.

Her climax spurs Varric on, and it is only moments of frantic fucking before his fingers dig into her, a needy whine escaping his lips as he empties himself into her. For a moment, they are still, joined in ecstasy. And then her fingers slip from his hair, her body sagging against his.

“Varric…”

He nuzzles her neck, pressing soft kisses to her cheek. “Mm,” he hums, weak and quiet but undoubtedly happy, and she smiles.

“That… _that_ was very good.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he rumbles.

“Not to say that before was _bad_ , of course.”

He grins against her skin. “Of course.”

“But I could get used to coming on your cock,” she breathes, and he groans as he pulls out, one arm around her waist as they slump on the bed.

“Maker save me from Cassandra’s gorgeously filthy mouth. I need a few minutes before I can ravish you again.”

“You might also need a new bed,” she points out as he stretches out beside her. The headboard was nothing more than firewood, destroyed by his pace and her hands, and she smirks as he grumbles.

“Yeah, well… that’s a problem for tomorrow.” He reaches up, knocking away the larger chunks before propping a pillow up against the wall and leaning against it. She moves to join him, but he starts. “Careful!”

She raises an eyebrow, and he pulls her into his body, tucking her into his warmth.

“Pointy wood behind you. Can’t have you disappearing in a poof of smoke.”

“You _do_ know that is a myth, Varric, surely?”

He stills. “Well, I do _now_.”

She laughs. “It will harm me as much as it would anyone else, and the scars are uglier, but it will not make me vanish into ash.”

“What about garlic?”

“I find it has a tendency to overpower a dish, but it will not kill me.”

“Sunlight?”

She stares at him. “Really?”

“Just checking,” he grumbles, settling back against the wall.

“What of you? Does silver hurt you?”

“Hurts my sense of _taste_. It’s tacky.”

She chuckles, settling into his side. “Good to know.”

“What am I, if not a dwarf of high standards?”

“You know about Dorian, do you not?” she says quietly.

“The banshee? Yeah. Smells different.”

“And yet I do not?”

He smiles, head resting against hers. “You do,” he admits quietly, “but I had no frame of reference. I’ve met banshees before. Never met a vampire.” He nuzzles her cheek. “Never met _anyone_ like you, Seeker.”

She laughs as his bristly chin tickles her. “Is this why you are never quite clean-shaven?”

“Probably. Apparently dwarf werewolves are exceptionally hairy. I shave every day, you know.”

“Really?” She sits up, regarding him as she leans against her knees. “Do you know many others like you?”

“No.” He smiles weakly. “I’m… not supposed to happen. When dwarves get bitten, they die. Something about the blood. But I didn’t. I turned, and for a little while I had to work it out on my own.”

“They left you? Your… pack?”

“Back then it was just this man and his daughter. And I was a kid, and a dwarf. They thought I was dead, until they heard about the fields around Kirkwall finding dead sheep a month later. They came back to check it out, and they found me.”

She leans over to press her lips to his temple. “To think you were all alone… I cannot bear it.”

He smiles, crooked and warm. “It was okay, they came back. And I ran with them for a while, but… they left Kirkwall, and I couldn’t. My mother was dying, and I… I was in love.”

“Bianca,” she guesses.

“Yeah. And we all know that ended well.” He shrugs. “Never told her about… this. About me. Suppose that was a sign. And after that I just… got on with it. Kept it hidden away as best I could, until Hawke showed up, and then Daisy found out and made me this tea that keeps me calm, and Rivaini thinks it’s hilarious of course, but she’s a Siren -”

“A Siren? Truly?”

“Oh, yeah. Half that lot aren’t quite mortal - Daisy’s a sprite, Rivaini’s a Siren, Broody’s a golem… we stuck together because we knew how hard it was to be alone. It was nice, being in a pack again.”

“And you let Hawke lead.”

“You didn’t really _let_ Hawke do anything. Hawke was… _Hawke_. Natural leader.” He shrugs. “I would follow Hawke anywhere.”

“And now?”

“Now, I follow the Inquisitor. Not quite a pack, but enough. But not many people _know_ , you know? Nightingale knows, obviously. She gives me a cover every moon -”

“Your missions!”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

“I knew something was up!”

“Speaking of, I assume she knows about you. So… when we get new recruits, and you smell different…”

“Oh, I - I did not realise -”

“Well, my sense of smell is pretty good,” he points out.

“We have developed a system for screening recruits using samples of their blood. I can taste certain things in them.” She smiles, feeling the blush across her cheeks. “You remember last week, when I was… excitable?”

He laughs. “Yeah, what happened there?”

“Lyrium in the blood. It does something to me. I know not why.”

“I liked it,” he murmurs, “you were very friendly towards me. I thought you might kiss me.”

She reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “For you, I will always be friendly,” she promises, fingernails light over his scalp. Varric groans, leg twitching.

“Mm, s’good.”

She chuckles. “You are still a pup, truly.” She scratches a little harder. “Good boy,” she teases.

His leg continues to twitch, but he shoots her a glare. “I’m not above biting,” he warns.

“I noticed.” She tries to get a good look at the mark on her shoulder, and he sits up sharply, all levity gone.

“Shit. That looks bad.”

“It is fine.”

“Seeker -”

“Varric, you marked me. It was… it was _good_. I will wear it with pride.”

He stares at her. “It’ll scar?”

“As most of my injuries do, unless I take blood.”

“Then take some!”

She laughs, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You misunderstand, Varric. Vampires… when they bond with a mate, they mark one another. It is a great measure of trust, to allow yourself to be that bare with someone. And you are my bonded. You gave me this today, on a day when our secrets were given freely in the hopes of a better future. I would not have it any other way.”

He swallows. “Oh.” His fingers trail lightly over the teeth marks. “So if others see it, they know you’re… bonded, right?”

“Exactly.”

He smiles. “They’ll know you’re _my_ pack mate.”

“They would.”

“So… will you mark me?”

“If you wish me to, yes. But not right now.” She grins. “In the morning, when you take me on the desk, perhaps.”

He laughs. “I’m not sure my furniture can take much more.”

“Then we will have to commission better furniture.”

“C’mere.” He folds her into his arms, breathing her in. “I can’t believe this is where my day ended up.”

“Complaining?”

“Not even a little. Just… I thought you’d be horrified. I mean, I’m a mons-”

“Varric, shut up.” She curls around him, pressing a kiss to the pulsepoint in his neck. “If you are a monster, then so am I.”

“You’re not -”

“Exactly.” She smiles into his skin. “You are the man I have… come to care for. No, you are...” She buries her face in his neck. “You are the one I love,” she mumbles. “My bonded. My pack mate.”

His arms tighten around her. “Cassandra, I -”

“And if we are different, then so be it. I would choose such a life with you.”

She feels him press a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. “I love you too,” he breathes, and she feels a strange joy in her chest. That she would not be alone, that she would perhaps run for the rest of her long and cold life with her hand clasped around another… that was a joy she could never had expected.

Well, she realises with a smile, Varric had _always_ been the exception.


End file.
